


Nobody can predict the future

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [85]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 19:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: There are nights Sansa can't sleep. Because the past is haunting her. Because she's afraid to live in the present. Because she fears that the future might take every bit of happiness away again. Luckily Jon is always there. To soothe her, to calm her and to protect her against all the monsters in her mind.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Jonsa Week [85]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/576145
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67
Collections: JonsaWeek2019





	Nobody can predict the future

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JonSa-Week 2019 day 1

The darkness of the night surrounded Winterfell.

Even though Sansa knew they were destroyed she could still hear the screeching of the white walkers thrumming in her ear. A shiver rolled down her spine and to comfort herself she searched for the whining tree, somewhere in the distance.

It was still there. Guarding them. Watching over them. Seeing them for who they were, without their crowns and without their armour. The tree never asked questions and never provided answers. But the tree always soothed and calmed. It had lived far longer than Sansa could even imagine. And it would live even longer still.

“Sansa…” Jon’s arms circled around her shivering body and he pressed a soft kiss on her uncombed hair. His arms were warm and where his fingers touched her her skin glowed. “The bed is cold without you.” His voice sounded hoarse and sleepy and when Sansa turned around she saw his tangled curls surrounding his face. The lines on his forehead had deepened and would probably never recover from everything they had been through. He seemed older than he should be. Wiser too. Too old. Too wise.

Just like herself.

“Do you ever wonder if they will come back one day?” Sansa looked over her shoulder and focussed on the strong wall surrounding Winterfell.

They had not stopped Theon and his iron men from climbing over them. They had not protected her from Ramsay Bolton and everything he did to her. They had seen things no one liked to talk about. They had witnessed massacres, bloodshed and pain.

But they were still standing. Fierce and strong. Protecting the castle and its children living in it. They had also watched people falling in love and getting married. And they had taught young boys to climb and conquer the world.

“Who?” Jon shook his head and he pressed the palm of his hand to Sansa’s cheek.

“The white walkers, the night king, the army of the death.” Sansa shivered again and Jon wrapped his arms around her, pressing her tightly to his strong chest. He hadn’t fought in a long time. He didn’t need to. But he was training every day. Just in case.

Jon shrugged. “People have thought them gone before.” He hesitated. “But they hadn’t killed them. They hadn’t won the war. They hadn’t seen them falling and becoming dust.” He took a deep breath. “I hope they’re gone. And I hope that no one will ever make new ones again.”

Sansa smiled. “We hope many things. And yet, sometimes I feel like we’re never learning from the past and keep on making the same mistakes.”

“We won’t. Not yet.” Jon rocked her back and forth. “We won’t forget what happened to us. We won’t forget what we’ve fought. Who we’ve fought and who we were fighting for.” He paused and in the sudden silence Sansa felt Jon’s heart beating against the palm of her hand. “And we will tell our children and they will tell theirs.”

“And soon everything we’ve endured will be nothing but stories parents tell their children to scare and teach them. The fear will fade. The lessons will fade.” She closed her eyes and breathed in the cold winter air. “And then everything might start again, back to the beginning, to kings fighting over iron thrones and monsters claiming houses that are not theirs to claim.”

Once upon a time she had loved those stories. Stories about brave knights and beautiful maidens. Stories about great wars and heroes being born. But reality wasn’t just a story. Those brave knights were scarred for the rest of their lives, reliving the terrors of what they have seen and the guilt of what they had done. The beautiful maidens trembled when loving hands attempted to touch them and tender lips tried to kiss them. And all those heroes had never wanted fame. They had simply done what they had to do. They had simply acted even though they were afraid. And most of those heroes had eventually paid for their heroic deeds with their lives.

The ghosts of heroes wandered through the halls of Winterfell at night. The souls of heroes danced all night in the courtyard. And the bodies of heroes paved the fields surrounding the castle.

“We can’t control or change the future of the world.” Jon buried his face in her neck. “Just like our parents couldn’t change our futures.”

Sansa took a deep breath. “Jon…” She reached for his hand and placed it on her belly. “How can we protect our child?”

Jon’s eyes widened and a smile spread across his face even though Sansa hadn’t allowed herself to feel happy thus far. “By teaching it all we learned and by hoping that the world hasn’t forgotten the lesson either.”

“What if we fail? What if the world fails? What if someone tries to steal the throne from Bran? What if they come for the North, attempting to claim it back, to make it a part of the seven Kingdoms again?” She placed her hand on his and thought about the child, small and breakable and vulnerable, growing inside her.

Jon pressed his forehead to hers. His nose brushed hers gently and then he covered her mouth with his. “As long as I live, I will protect this child, and all the other children we will have, with my sword and life.” His hand kept on rubbing her belly. “Just like I’ll protect you.” He took a deep breath and he let their foreheads meet again. “You’re allowed to be happy, Sansa.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with his free hand and then he buried his nails in her neck. “You just made me the happiest person alive.”

Sansa allowed herself to smile and she squeezed his hand while she kissed his lips again. “ I am happy. And therefore I am also scared. Because now I’ve got one more thing to lose and I don’t think I can ever bear losing any of the people I care about again.”

“We’ve been through enough. I hope the old Gods, the new and the God of light know that.” He stepped back and reached for Sansa’s hand. “Come back to bed, Sansa.” He pulled her along towards the giant bed in the middle of their room. The bed that had once belonged to her parents and was now hers to share with the man she loved. “Let’s tell our child our stories. And let’s tell our child the world is now safe and good and true and welcoming.”

The smile on her face brightened while she stepped into the bed and hid in his arms. She wasn’t sure about the world, but at least his arms were safe and good and true and more than welcoming and once their baby was born, so would be hers.


End file.
